


Young Lochinvar, July 1974

by BobbyCrocker101



Category: Kojak (TV 1973)
Genre: 1970s, Accidental Death, Detectives, Gen, Manhattan South, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Military Police, NYPD, New York City, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicide Attempt, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 18:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21202448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BobbyCrocker101/pseuds/BobbyCrocker101
Summary: Lochinvar: A brave knight, from the poem Marmion, by Sir Walter Scott.Bobby Crocker goes to the rescue of a damsel in distress, but then everything goes horribly wrong.This is an original story set in July 1974.Feedback welcome





	Young Lochinvar, July 1974

**Author's Note:**

> None of the characters belong to me; I'm just playing with them for a while before putting them back in their box. No money is being, or will be made from this story.
> 
> I was 15 in September 1973 when "Kojak" first aired, and had other things to do. Now I'm retired I’ve finally watched this wonderful old TV show for the first time. I’m from the UK and have never visited the US, but have made use of the internet to gain information about the NYPD, the US Army in Vietnam, and the city of New York. I apologise in advance for any language confusion.
> 
> In the Season 2 episode “Nursemaid” (1974) Crocker’s ID shows him to have been born in 1943 which would make him 31 in 1974, but because he's occasionally referred to as being very young and is often called "Kid" or "Junior", my version of him was born in 1951 which makes him 23 in this story. In the season 1 episode “Deliver us Some Evil” (1974) Crocker mentions a sister, but since she's never mentioned again, I've created my own version of her. She is the only 'biological' relative I'm allowing him to have. And as little is known about his back story, I've made up my own.
> 
> The term ‘Young Lochinvar’ is used by Kojak to describe Crocker in the Season 2 episode “The Chinatown Murders”, part 1 (1974).
> 
> Original characters: Marty Goldman, Lindsey McKenna, Joey Jackson, Kate Jackson, Roberta Lindsey 'Bobbie' Jackson, Molly Donovan, Chief Conway, Mickey Spooner, Rose Crocker
> 
> Spoilers: None, but a familiarity with the show would be useful, as would reading my story "New Beginnings".

It was mid-summer, and tempers were rising inside the Manhattan South Detectives squad room faster than the temperature outside.

“Has anyone heard from Crocker this morning?” Lieutenant Theo Kojak asked during the morning roll call, noticing the detective was conspicuous by his absence, again. Several people mumbled that they hadn’t before Stavros said;

“I don’t think he’s in yet lieutenant.” 

“I can see that!” Kojak responded angrily. “When he finally does decide to turn up tell him I wanna see him!” And with that the lieutenant stormed off to his office and slammed the door shut rattling the glass panel.

A few minutes later Bobby arrived in the squad room looking the worse for wear and was told the lieutenant wanted to see him. He put his jacket on the back of his chair and then headed into the lieutenant’s office

“Don’t you ever knock?” Kojak yelled. “And where the hell have you been!” 

“Where have I been? I’ve been to Hawaii!” Bobby replied. The lieutenant glared at him and continued.

“When I want a comedy act Crocker I’ll book the Marx Brothers. It’s nearly nine and you were supposed to be here an hour ago!”

“I was stuck in the Midtown Tunnel for two hours with hundreds of other commuters because some turkey decided to crash their car into the back of a garbage truck!” Bobby replied feeling his temper rising. It was the truth; just not all of it. 

For the next five minutes the lieutenant ranted at his young detective, barely stopping for breath. They’d been working together for almost a year and both being hotheads had on occasion disagreed with one another but for the most part they got along, and a strong bond had developed between them, or so Bobby had thought. This time it was different. He’d never seen the lieutenant like this.

“It’s bad enough you turnin' up for your shift when you feel like it Crocker, but when you ARE here, you’re not here. Look at you, you’re half asleep! Perhaps if you spent less time chasin' chicks…” Kojak continued to rant. 

“I haven’t been chasin' anyone lieutenant!” Bobby retorted. He was exhausted. He wished he could tell the lieutenant the truth, that in addition to his normal duties; he’d been working on a special assignment with the FBI, one that had finally brought down the much sought after drug baron Marty Goldman. Kojak continued to rant and rave at his detective.

“Well if it’s not chicks, what is it?” He asked angrily.

“I can’t tell you lieutenant,” Bobby replied, hoping the lieutenant wouldn’t push any further, or that the captain would come to his rescue. He was the only other person at the precinct who knew about the special operation, and he wasn’t supposed to say anything either. The FBI were due to release a press statement later on, but for now he was on his own.

“Can’t or won't? Perhaps your pay cheque isn’t enough for you Crocker, is that what this is about?” the lieutenant continued, his temper rising even further; now he knew for certain the younger man was hiding something. 

“Are you accusin' me of something here lieutenant?” Bobby asked.

“You tell me Crocker. You wouldn’t be the first cop to be tempted to put his hand in the till,” Kojak replied, “and why are the Feds hangin' round?” 

“I have no idea lieutenant, why don’t you write and ask them?” Bobby snapped back.

“You know Crocker; if your old man had bothered to stick around long enough to teach you some manners perhaps you would know how to behave in front of a superior officer!”

The moment the words left Kojak’s mouth he regretted them: the young man had never known who his father was. Bobby looked at the lieutenant for a long time, and then without saying another word turned and quietly opened the door and went back out into the squad room. The lieutenant got up and slammed the door shut. A crack appeared across the glass panel.

“You’ll pay for that Detective!” Kojak roared.

“So sue me!” Bobby yelled back, his control beginning to slip. At that point Captain McNeil arrived in the squad room looking none too happy, took one look at Bobby, yelled at the rest of the men to get on with their work, and then disappeared into Kojak’s office, slamming the door behind him.

****

“Just what the hell is going on? They can hear you at the desk downstairs. In fact I wouldn’t be surprised if they can hear you across the street!” McNeil started “and why does Crocker look like a kid who’s just been told Santa Claus doesn’t exist?” The lieutenant sat down hard in his chair, his temper subsiding.

“I can’t believe I’ve just accused him of being corrupt Frank.”

“You did what!” The captain replied incredulous.

“I know Crocker Frank: he’s the worst poker player I’ve ever met, I can read him like a book, and I know there’s somethin' going on.” McNeil sat down and sighed.

“Look, I’m not supposed to say anything yet Theo, but he’s been working undercover with the Feds for the past week, on his own time I might add, to help bring down Marty Goldman and his gang. Somethin' big was coming down and they wanted a man on the inside. Crocker was specifically requested because none of Goldman's men knew him. I was none too happy about it, and neither was he, out of loyalty to you. But the Chief had already given his approval so we had no choice in the matter. Anyway, he got a job tendin' bar nights at Goldman's club over on 6th and managed to gather enough information; dates, places and so forth before the Feds raided the place last night and arrested everyone, including Crocker - to make it look good. A couple of warehouses over by the docks were also tossed and at least fifty million dollars-worth of cocaine was recovered. Crocker got bailed early this mornin'. That’s why he was late in Theo; he’d spent the night in jail. Personally I’m going to see to it that he gets a commendation.”

Kojak really didn’t like the guys from the FBI, but Crocker seemed to get along with some of their younger agents, so whenever the Detectives Division’s assistance was requested he would usually send HIM down to Federal Plaza rather than go himself, and now it seemed they’d got so used to Crocker visiting, they had started enlisting his assistance on their assignments. Kojak was worried and not a little jealous. He didn’t like the idea of other departments borrowing ‘his man’.

“Frank what have I done?” the lieutenant began; his anger all but gone. “How could I have accused Crocker of all people of bein' on the take? He’s the least corrupt person I know!"

“He’s been under a lot of pressure and he’s exhausted. I’m gonna send him home for the rest of the day to get some sleep, and then we’ll take it from there.” McNeil replied calmly. He knew how much Kojak cared for Crocker. True, he’d had his doubts when the young man had come to work in the Detectives Division being only thirteen months out of the academy. Kojak had hand-picked him because he’d seen the younger man’s potential, and now a strong bond had developed between them. The number of arrests had gone up as well, which made everyone happy. 

****

Back in the squad room Bobby was standing by his desk holding a full mug of coffee in his hand. He was so angry he was shaking. There was a crack and the mug shattered cutting his right hand across the palm and spattering blood and coffee all over the files he’d been working on.

“Damn it!” he called out. Stavros looked round with concern in his eyes. 

“You OK Bobby?” The large man asked kindly as the young man stood up holding his hand.

“Yeah,” Bobby replied, “I’m just goin' down to the infirmary get this sorted." At that moment the phone on his desk rang. Reaching behind and grabbing some napkins from the box next to the coffee maker and stuffing them into the palm of his hand, Bobby sat back down and gingerly picked up the telephone receiver, while trying to mop up the mess on his desk at the same time. He then remembered that he’d found a roller bandage at the back of his top drawer when he’d joined the department, it was still there. 

“That was Central; they’ve had a call about Mickey Spooner. Apparently he’s 'holed up' on the roof of Deichmann’s and is taking pot shots at people.” Bobby threw the napkins in the bin, grabbed the bandage from the drawer and began wrapping it round his hand. He looked over at the lieutenant's door which was still closed and decided not to bother the man. Putting on his jacket he headed out of the room with Stavros and the rest of the team. .

****

Leaving the lieutenant to his thoughts, McNeil went out into the squad room. He noticed Stavros, Crocker, Saperstein and Rizzo were missing. Sergeant Vine informed him they’d been called out to an incident down town. Then he noticed the mess on Crocker’s desk.

“What happened here?” he asked. But Vine had been working at a desk at the back of the room and hadn’t seen or heard anything.

****

The incident on the roof of Deichmann’s store had taken most of the day, but had ended successfully, and Mickey Spooner had been taken into custody. Rizzo had shot him in the arm and Bobby had made sure that the man was aware of his rights. He was feeling very tired and his hand was throbbing. They were on their way down from the roof when a flash of something blue caught his eye. 

“I think there’s someone else up here,” he said, ordering Rizzo and Saperstein to take their prisoner to the hospital to get his arm looked at while he and Stavros went to investigate. Walking to the edge he looked over the parapet and noticed a young girl sitting on a ledge about six feet down. He looked back at Stavros.

“There’s a chick sitting on a ledge, over to the right, about six feet down," he began. “She must have climbed out of a window somewhere.” He could see a bright blue scarf caught on a sharp piece of stone and moving in the breeze. Stavros looked over the parapet. It was crumbling in places and the older man realised there was no way it could take his weight.

“See if you can talk to her, I’ll go and call it in.” Stavros asked. Bobby nodded and watched as the older man went off in search of a telephone. He wasn’t totally confident in his abilities with this sort of situation. Sure he’d had the training, they all had, but he’d never had to put that training into effect. There wasn’t a lot of wind this evening, so he climbed up onto the parapet and sat down, positioning himself as near to the girl as he could safely. He looked down and noticed the alley far below, and realised the Fire Department would probably not be able to get a ladder anywhere near, assuming they had one long enough in the first place. At that moment the girl turned to face him. 

“Go away and leave me alone!” she called out. The first thing Bobby noticed was the sad look on her face; then he noticed that she looked to be about the same age as his sister. She started to move away from him to the corner.

“Hey! Stay with me! It’s OK, I’m here to help,” he began.

“You can’t help me,” the girl answered.

“I hope I can, otherwise my trip up here will have been for nothin'. I’m Bobby by the way, this is Stavros.” He replied pointing over his shoulder to his colleague who had just returned to the roof gasping for breath. The girl said nothing. In the meantime Stavros reported that a fire engine and ambulance were on their way, but there were no specially trained officers available so they were on their own.

“What kind of name is Stavros?” the girl suddenly asked.

“He’s Greek, and he’s very nice. Like a big teddy bear," Bobby replied knowing without seeing him that his friend was blushing. For a while nothing was said. He looked at the bandage on his hand, it was soaked with blood and had come undone, so he took it off and threw it into the breeze. The sun was going down and the sky had turned pink.

“Are you hurt?” the girl asked, suddenly concerned. “Was that my fault?” 

“No," Bobby replied, “I did it earlier.” Nothing was said for a few minutes and then,

“Lindsey,” the girl continued. “My name is Lindsey, Lindsey McKenna. I’m nineteen”.

“Hi Lindsey,” Bobby replied. “You come here often?” It was a corny thing to say, but he noticed the girl had smiled. It was an opening.

“No,” she replied. “I’ve only been in New York for six months. I’m from Haverhill in Iowa.”

“Is it nice there?” Bobby asked. He’d never heard of the place. 

“It’s OK,” Lindsey replied; “it’s farming country mostly.”

“Do you have any family there?” He asked.

“Just my parents and my younger sister,” Lindsey replied. “She’s the pretty one in the family.”

“I think you’re pretty,” Bobby replied kindly. “I have a younger sister too, about your age.” He paused for a while, thinking about his Rosie, and how he would feel if SHE were the one sitting down there on the ledge. He quietly hoped that someone would care enough to help. 

“So what brought you to New York?” He asked bringing his thoughts back to the matter in hand.

“I came here with my boyfriend six months ago. I got a job as a clerk here at Deichmann’s; he got a job as a delivery driver.”

“Does he know where you are?” Bobby asked. “Tell us where he is. We’ll go find him. Bring him here.” 

“There’s no point.” Lindsey replied.

“He must be worried about you,” Bobby continued.

“I doubt it: see he got married last week.”

“Married?” Bobby asked incredulous.

“To someone called Wendy. She works in the Accounts Department, apparently they’d been seeing one another behind my back and one day last month he came home from work, told me we were through, packed his things and left me to go to her. Then I found out he’d got her pregnant and they got married last Wednesday.”

“I’m so sorry.” Bobby said gently. 

“Yeah, we had a big row about it, and I was late for work and my boss fired me, and now I’m going to lose the apartment because I can’t afford to pay the rent...” She began to cry. 

“I had a row with my boss too.” Bobby said trying to keep her attention focused on him.

“Is that how you hurt your hand?" Lindsey asked through her tears.

“Yeah, I took it out on a coffee mug, rather than slug HIM. It seemed like the better option at the time.” Bobby replied. Lindsey smiled briefly.

“You should get it looked at.” She began. “It might get infected." Bobby smiled at her concern.

“I will.” he promised.

At that moment Chief Conway from the Fire Department arrived on the roof, accompanied by an ambulance crew. He explained quietly to Stavros that due to the incompetence of the city planners and the proximity of the neighbouring buildings there was no way to get an engine with a long ladder anywhere near. There were no windows near the girl, and the ledge directly above her wasn't strong enough to take a man's weight, so the only chance of getting her off would be to win her confidence and get her to move to a different position, below Crocker. Noticing that the young detective was sitting on the parapet unprotected Conway arranged for him to have a safety harness.

“I’ve got some men settin' up some flood lightin' on the Fisher Building,” the chief continued, pointing to the building to their right. How’s Crocker doin'?” 

“He’s doin' great,” Stavros replied. It was true. Stavros was really impressed with how gentle Bobby was being with the girl. He’d never really seen this side of his young friend before. In the office he could be as loud and noisy as the rest of them, but Stavros had always suspected it was an act: something Crocker did in order to fit in.

“Do you come from New York?” Lindsey suddenly asked.

“Born and raised,” Bobby replied. “I’m from Jackson Heights. See those plane lights over there?” he continued, pointing in the direction of JFK International Airport. “That’s where I grew up."

“Is it nice there?” Lindsey asked, echoing Bobby’s earlier question to her.

“Some parts are okay, others not so. There’s been some trouble lately, gangs and drugs and stuff, but it’s really very nice if you know which parts to avoid." Bobby replied.

“I haven’t really seen much of the city yet: I’m afraid of getting lost.” Lindsey started.

“Well then, allow me give you the sunset tour!” Bobby replied making Lindsey laugh. “See that buildin' over there with the tall mast on the top? That’s the Empire State Buildin' and that one over there with the art deco design on the roof? That’s the Chrysler Building', and the Gothic looking building with the green tiles on the tower, that’s the Woolworth Buildin'.”

“Like the department store?” Lindsey asked.

“The very same,” Bobby replied.

“It’s pretty.” Lindsey replied sounding interested. Bobby continued,

“And those two towers over there? They’re part of the new World Trade Center. The tower with the aerial is the tallest buildin' in the world.”

“I bet the view’s great from up there.” Lindsey replied.

“It’s stunning,” Bobby replied. “There’s an observation deck on the roof of the other tower. I go there sometimes when I need to clear my head. I have a friend who works as part of the security team, so if I want to I can go up there after all the tourists have left.”

“Perhaps you should have gone there today rather than breaking your coffee mug,” Lindsey said. 

For the next hour Bobby continued to show her the sites of New York from their perch, while Stavros assisted with the emergency service teams. The pink sky had slowly turned black and the flood lights on the Fisher Building roof had been switched on. All around them the lights on the bridges and in the skyscrapers shone like a million jewels. The top of the Woolworth Tower was now bathed in a white light.

“Wow!” Lindsey began.

“Lindsey, why don’t you come in now, you must be gettin' cold,” Bobby started. Even though it had been a hot day, at this altitude the air was getting chilly. “I know a place you could stay for a while until you get yourself sorted,” he was thinking of Molly. He was sure she’d be able to help this poor lonely girl.

“What kind of place?” she asked, suddenly suspicious.

“Well, you could stay with my foster mother, she’s really nice, and loves having people to stay. You could use my old room. We’ll get you checked out by a medic while I call her and then as soon as you’re given the all-clear I’ll drive you to your apartment so you can collect your things, then we’ll go to Molly’s. It would be safer, and cheaper than a hotel or boarding house.” Bobby replied. 

“She won’t mind?” Lindsey asked.

“She won’t mind, although there are house rules, number one being; “If you want to eat it, you’ve got to earn it” Bobby continued. “Everyone gets chores to do until they get a job.”

“She sounds nice.” Lindsey said, looking up and really seeing Bobby for the first time, until now he’d just been a gentle voice coming from somewhere above her. He had a kind face she thought, and nice eyes, and a nice smile. She wondered if he was married... 

“She’s lovely.” He replied, and then added without thinking. “Without her I probably wouldn’t be alive.” 

Lindsey was quiet for a while and then Bobby saw her stand and start to edge her way towards him.

“Hang on Lindsey.” He began.

As she moved to stand underneath him Bobby lay down on the parapet and reached out with his hand. Stavros moved behind the younger man and held on to him and also reached out a hand. The chief ordered a simple harness be lowered for Lindsey to put on. For the first time Stavros could see the young girl his friend had been talking to. She was a pretty little thing with long curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

What happened next would stay with the two detectives for the rest of their lives. The ledge suddenly gave way. Bobby had been able to grab Lindsey, but his hand was wet with blood and she’d slipped through his fingers and fallen.

****

Rizzo and Saperstein arrived back at the precinct with Mickey Spooner. They’d spent the previous two hours with the man at the hospital waiting while his arm was patched up. Kojak was delighted to have Spooner finally in his custody, although it was late in the evening and he wasn’t in the mood to conduct an interrogation right now. He asked for the man to be taken down town to a cell for the night; he’d talk with him in the morning. 

“What’s happened to Stavros and Crocker?” he asked, noticing that neither man had returned.

“They were still at the crime scene when we left lieutenant.” Rizzo replied.

“Crocker said he’d seen somethin', I think he thought there was someone else up on the roof,“ Saperstein added. At that moment Captain McNeil hurried into the room.

“I just got it over the wire," he started. “There’s been an accident over at the Deichmann building: a girl has fallen from the roof. Crocker and Stavros were at the scene. They've all been taken to City General.” He ordered Rizzo and Saperstein to go to the scene of the accident and find out what they could. Kojak grabbed his hat and coat and together with the captain headed off to the hospital. 

****

Once at City General the two men were directed to a corridor off the ER. The first person they saw was the fire chief. Complaining once again about the city planners and the buildings maintenance people, he filled the two men in on what had occurred. 

At first Kojak was angry that neither Stavros nor Crocker had called the precinct to ask for assistance. He wouldn’t have sent either man in to handle this kind of case, especially Crocker who should have been at home resting; after all there were enough so-called ‘experts’ out there. 

“The kid did you proud Theo,” the chief said, patting the lieutenant on the shoulder as he headed back to the scene of the accident.

At that moment the treatment room door opened and Stavros was brought out by a nurse and helped into a chair in the waiting area. The man was clearly very upset.

“You stay here and talk to Stavros,” the Captain ordered. “I’LL go and find Crocker.” He didn’t want to witness another row between the two men, NOW of all times.

“Go easy on him captain,” Stavros started. “He’s in pieces." The captain nodded and went in search of his young detective. Kojak looked sick.

“What happened?” he began. 

“We arrested Spooner lieutenant, and Crocker, well he saw somethin' and thought there might be someone else on the roof. We had no idea it would be a young kid.” Tears ran down his face as he continued. Kojak gently put his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Why didn’t you call for assistance?” he asked gently.

“I did lieutenant, I even called the other precincts, but with staff being on leave and other stuff goin' on, no-one was available.” Stavros began to sob. “You should have seen Crocker, lieutenant. He was amazing, so gentle with her. She was comin' in when the ledge gave way. He managed to grab her, but his hand was wet, and she slipped through his fingers.” 

“Why was his hand wet?” Kojak asked.

“Well, he’d cut it in the office, broke a coffee mug I think… He was hysterical afterwards… absolutely devastated…” Stavros went quiet. Kojak got the picture. 

****

Captain McNeil walked into the treatment room and quietly closed the door behind him. Bobby was lying on a bed, and appeared to be asleep. The doctor explained that they’d had to give him a mild sedative to calm him down while his hand was being stitched. McNeil nodded and grabbing a chair sat down next to the young man.

“How are you Bobby?” he began, noticing the other man’s eyes were open.

“I’m OK, I’ll make it, captain.” Bobby replied.

“Can you tell me what happened?” the captain asked.

“I had her, but she slipped and fell…” Bobby began blinking rapidly against the tears in his eyes. He held up his newly bandaged hand and stared at it.

“How did you cut your hand?” the captain asked.

“Coffee mug… lost my temper…“ Bobby replied shakily. McNeil had guessed as much when he’d seen the mess on the young man’s desk earlier. 

“Was that because of the argument you had with the lieutenant?” McNeil asked. Bobby briefly looked at him and shook his head; even after everything that had happened Crocker was still loyal to his lieutenant, even though the man didn’t deserve that loyalty. 

Kojak was always hard on Crocker, whether he deserved it or not. But the young man was eager to learn, and seemed to absorb most of the lieutenant’s rantings. McNeil had also noticed that he was the only person Kojak occasionally allowed to answer back, thus providing Crocker with an opportunity to clear his OWN hot head. He looked at the young detective and noticed that his eyes were closed again.

“I think it would be best if Detective Crocker remain here at the hospital for tonight,” the doctor spoke quietly. The captain nodded. He wondered how HE would have coped if HE’D been up on that roof. He was lucky; he had a loving wife and family at home, but sometimes even THAT wasn’t enough. Things were improving, but he knew the NYPD still didn’t provide much in the way of mental health care for its personnel, almost as if they refused to admit that post-traumatic stress existed. He’d seen many officers over the years who had been caught up in terrible situations and had gone off the rails and been forced to retire, their marriages breaking down, some ending up living on the streets or worse, committing suicide. It scared him. He went back out into the corridor, where the lieutenant was still sitting with Stavros. Both men looked up when McNeil approached.

“How is he Frank?” Kojak asked, standing up.

“Not good,” the captain replied. “They’re gonna to keep him in overnight. How are you Stavros?”

“I’ll be OK, captain… I just want to get out of here.” At that moment Saperstein and Rizzo arrived.

“We found the girl’s purse, Lieutenant. Her name was Lindsey McKenna, aged nineteen,” Saperstein began. “Current address is an apartment on 10th. Her parents live on a farm in Haverhill, Iowa."

“We’ve notified them, and they’re flyin' in. They should be here in the morning.” Rizzo added. Kojak nodded and thanked his officers for the information and then asked them to take Stavros home. 

****

Bobby was sitting on his sofa gazing at the raindrops racing one another down the window. He’d been awake for most of the night, his sleep haunted by nightmares. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Lindsey McKenna looking up at him, terror in her eyes, and then the image would mutate into his sister, and every time he looked at his hand he saw the blood that wouldn’t come off, no matter how hard he scrubbed. Stavros had phoned the previous evening to see how he was, which was kind, and the guys had been round to visit - even the captain, but the lieutenant had stayed away. Bobby had been released from the hospital the morning after the accident and after a couple of days off had gone back to work, but it soon became apparent he wasn't coping and he’d been signed off the chart for the time being. He'd been prescribed a low-dose anti-depressant and told that the NYPD Medical Division had been notified of his situation and were expecting him later that day. He had only been to 'Medical' a few times before, each time for his annual physical and psych evaluations. Now he had an appointment with a Dr Fisher who headed up a newly created section specialising in post-traumatic stress. He’d give the man one chance. Captain McNeil had insisted that he speak to the psychiatrist, so he’d speak to the man, and then hopefully he’d be able to put the whole sorry mess behind him and return to work and then everything would be fine. He also had to return to City General at some point to have the stitches in his hand removed.

****

The doctor’s door didn’t stand out from any of the others along the corridor. Stavros, who had also been to see Dr Fisher, had told him it was the last door on the left, and there it was. The name plate read 'Dr A Fisher' followed by a lot of letters. Bobby absently wondered what the ‘A’ stood for. He raised a hand and knocked on the door, there was no reply. He raised his hand again and jumped with surprise when the door suddenly opened.

“Detective Crocker,” Fisher stated and then stood back to invite Bobby inside. He closed the door behind them. The office was small, with a sofa and a couple of armchairs. Bobby noticed the family photographs on the shelves among the books. The office had a window, and through it he could see a small courtyard with some shrubs with bird feeders and a picnic table and chairs.

“Nice view”, Bobby commented. The doctor picked up one of the two files sitting on his desk, Bobby guessed that one of them was his personnel file; the other probably his medical file. He invited the young man to sit in one of the arm chairs while he sat down in the other.

“I’ve read the report sent from the hospital, but I’d like to form my own conclusions.” the doctor began.

“I don’t wanna be here,” Bobby stated, absently looking out of the window at a bird that was pulling a nut from one of the feeders. 

“I can’t make you stay.” Fisher replied. “The door’s not locked.” Bobby got up and walked over to the door; he slowly turned the knob and opened it. He looked back to find the doctor watching him. He took a step into the corridor and then stopped. No, he didn't WANT to be here, but it occurred to him that this might be where he NEDED to be. He walked back into the office and closed the door behind him, and crossing the room sat back down in the chair.

“I don’t know what to say,” Bobby began.

“You don’t have to say anything,” the doctor replied, “but it would be helpful if you could answer some questions, and remember everything we discuss here IS completely confidential.”

By the time Fisher had finished his questions Bobby was exhausted. He got up and walked round the room, stopping in front of a bookcase to look at a photograph of the doctor wearing an Army uniform.

“I understand you saw service in Vietnam,” Fisher commented, coming to stand next to his patient, “which unit were you with?”

“716th”, Bobby replied. “I was an MP from ‘69 to ‘71.” The doctor smiled to himself, here he thought, was a starting point, a base on which to build. Some common ground he could utilise.

“I was in Korea,” Fisher continued,“ attached to a MASH unit.”

“I was based in Saigon and Tan Son Nhut, handlin' POWs and checkpoints mostly, although I did go ‘up country’ a couple of times.” Bobby replied. He noticed the room was getting dark and the doctor walked over to the door and switched on the lights. “I want my life back,” he spoke the words quietly.

“It took courage for you to come here today, Detective Crocker. But it took more for you to close the door behind you.” Fisher replied. “I have an appointment available on Thursday at 14:00; will that be alright for you?” Bobby nodded. "We'll start with twice weekly meetings, and take it from there." The doctor added Bobby’s name to his list of appointments for Thursday, and then started writing out a prescription slip. 

“The doctors at the hospital were concerned about your blood pressure, and I’m inclined to agree with those concerns. This is a prescription for some medication which you can have filled at the pharmacy downstairs.” Bobby took the paper. Then Fisher handed him a card. “These are my contact details; you can call anytime, night or day. If I’m not in, someone will page me.” 

****

It had been a month. The stitches in his hand were long gone, but sometimes if he closed his eyes he could still see the blood. Things were slowly getting better. He was still attending appointments with Dr Fisher, but only once a week now. He was no longer taking any medication and, thanks to his meetings with Dr Fisher, he’d learned to control the flashbacks and had begun meditating again, and last night he’d managed to get a full eight hours of sleep. All he wanted now was to return to work. But first he had to pass a medical examination and psychological evaluation. He wasn’t looking forward to either. And having spent what SHE considered far too much time on his own, his foster mother had finally persuaded him to come and stay with her for a few days, and he’d agreed, deciding it would make a nice change to look at someone else’s four walls instead of at his own.

****

Molly had been acting mysteriously all morning, and when Bobby asked if she was alright, she’d just patted him on the cheek and told him to wait and see. He also noticed she was cooking a lot of food and figured she must have invited some of her church friends for lunch. He’d notified 'Medical' of his whereabouts for the next few days, and had received a phone call earlier informing him of the times for his medical and psych evaluations. He was still tired, but was sleeping better, and he was feeling a lot calmer than he had in a long time. Just before lunch the doorbell rang. Before he could get up, Molly told him to stay where he was as she had a surprise for him. 

The door to the lounge opened and she walked in, followed by Bobby’s friend Joey and his wife Kate, who was holding a baby. He’d quite forgotten that his friends had been expecting their first child. 

“Here’s someone to meet you Bobby!” Joey began, handing over the baby. “Oh and I lost the bet, I owe you five bucks. HE'S a she.” 

Bobby gently took the baby from her father, and kissed Kate. He looked at the bundle in his arms with wonder. It had been a long time since he’d held anyone so tiny.

“We’ve decided to name her Roberta; 'Bobbie' for short,” Kate started, “in honour of her godfather.” At first Bobby didn’t understand what his friends were saying, and then finally the penny dropped. They all laughed.

“Well you haven’t exactly been firin' on all cylinders lately, Bobby!” Joey began.

“You want to name her after ME?” Bobby asked. 

“Of course,” Joey replied. “We went all through ‘Nam together, and then you helped me to find a job when I got home. I can’t think of anyone better.”

“There’s just the matter of a middle name.” Kate added warily. “We thought Lindsey, in honour of the girl you met, if that’s alright.” Bobby looked at his god daughter for a long while and then nodded and smiled. He thought the name was perfect, and hoped 'his' Lindsey would approve.

“Hello Roberta Lindsey Jackson, welcome to the world," he said quietly and gently placed a kiss on the child’s forehead. 

****

A familiar brown Buick pulled up alongside him as he left the Medical Division. He’d been expecting to see Stavros waiting, but he was nowhere in sight.

“You’re lookin' very pleased with yourself Crocker,” the lieutenant commented through the open car window. 

“Just been cleared to return to work lieutenant,” Bobby replied, getting into the car. Kojak immediately began running through a list of cases that needed his detective's ‘special attention’.

“It’ll be good to have you back, Crocker. You’re the only one who can get a decent brew out of the damned coffee machine and fix the teleprinter.” Bobby smiled. It would be good to be back. He knew that the lieutenant would never apologise for what he’d said; that wasn’t his way, but he knew he’d been missed and that he was valued, and that the other man cared about him and didn’t want to lose him - especially to the Feds. In return Bobby promised he’d never work on an assignment with the FBI again, at least not without the lieutenant's knowledge. As far as he was concerned the 'special operation' had been one assignment too many, and had almost cost him perhaps the best friendship he’d ever had.

“Come on, I’ll buy you lunch, and then you can tell me all about that special assignment of yours.” Kojak added as they drove off.


End file.
